Marked
by smallboxes
Summary: There was a reason he didn’t get deeply involved with the girls that he dated. Drake needed an exit, a way out from his casual encounters of the girl kind. DrakeMindy.


**Author's Notes**: I do not own _Drake & Josh_, am making no profit from this, and no copyright infringement is intended. All comments/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

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_Marked. Drake/Mindy. 1,423 words. mature._

The cold, icky feeling snaked through him, made him feel rejected and unwanted which is about the most ridiculous idea he's ever had, in his own opinion. But the jealous feeling blankets over him, heavy and unyielding, as he watches her and the feeling grows and grows.

It's a new sensation that overwhelms Drake and he's not happy with this particular development. But even worse than this jealousy (yes _jealousy_ - over _her_!) was his inability to share with anyone the problem he'd developed. His friends wouldn't get it and Josh could never, _ever_ find out; a fact that left a raw hole in his chest where Drake imagined his conscience might've once lived.

Now he sat in class, feeling clammy and awful, watching Mindy talk to Craig about something he could only imagine was intensely nerdy and unable to hold his attention. They were far enough away that Drake couldn't hear what they were saying, but their body language was doing enough talking for them. He might've been reading too much in to it, but it wouldn't have been the first time he'd been accused of having an overactive imagination; he'd been hearing that his whole life.

They were standing close…too close for his liking. Craig was showing her something out of his textbook, pointing at some sort of graph. He made a gesture with his arm, smiled, and looked proud of himself while Mindy threw her head back and laughed. She touched her hand to Craig's shoulder and responded something back to him while Drake kept his attention on her hand from across the room.

That hand; he knew that hand better than he should have. Drake knew of its curves and dips, the way her fingers would clench and stretch out against his skin. He imagined that hand stretched out over Craig's skin now, dragging down the nerdy boy's skinny bicep while Mindy would be breathing heavily against his neck, like she had done with Drake so many times before. The images burned in his head of the two of them together, all horizontal on a table in the science lab and it only added fuel to the fire that was his jealousy.

That jealousy dove into a tailspin of anger; anger at Craig for making her laugh, anger at Mindy for tempting him with her womanly wiles (a phrase he'd heard from Josh that seemed appropriate for the moment). But mostly it was just anger at himself for letting Mindy affect him this way. There was a reason he didn't get deeply involved with the girls that he dated; Drake needed an exit, a way out from his casual encounters of the girl kind. The prospect of this secret fling with Mindy had been exciting at first, but now it felt like all he was dealing with was heavy emotion.

He didn't know what, but he needed to do _something_ about that.

--

It was dark and the wind bit at his skin as Drake stood under the glow from Mindy's window later that night. He pulled the black leather jacket around himself tighter in an attempt to squeeze some warmth out of it one last time. The action didn't do much for him and he let out a heavy sigh as he began to climb up the vine covered trellis, one foot over the other with practiced ease. While balancing himself, Drake managed to tap on the window without plummeting to the ground. Mindy answered his call with a semi-surprised look on her face and wordlessly helped him into her pretty flowered bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, pulling her purple robe tighter around her body. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I just wanted to see you," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Why, am I interrupting something?"

"No, I just got done taking a bath," Mindy sighed as she raked a hand through her wet hair. They were both silent with their eyes roaming over each other. She went to say something, but his mouth had closed over hers and all she could let out was a tiny groan instead.

They both knew why he had come over, but it was a silly charade they went through in their conversation; as if pretending they didn't know made it any better. Drake pulled her closer with his hands around her neck and in her damp hair, but Mindy's warm, robe-covered body was flush against his cold, leather-clad one. His hand traveled down the length of her arm; the terrycloth felt nice and fluffy underneath his fingertips. She clenched at his jacket tighter, using her grip to pull him with her as they began to move toward the bed. They fell to the mattress in a tumbled heap, still connected by their lips.

As Mindy used her hands to help him out of his jacket, Drake was reminded of earlier. When that same hand had been gripping Craig's arm like it was holding his now; he felt the same irrational jealous anger from earlier bubble inside his chest. And sometimes, when Drake could feel that bubble about to burst, he did things before he thought about them.

He began to press back harder, move things a little faster. To her credit, for once Mindy didn't have some smart-aleck response like she usually did. She merely matched him, movement for movement, as though they were slinging physical insults rather than verbal ones. He would bite the curve of her neck and she'd counter by slicing her nails through the freckles that scattered his now naked back as his t-shirt was tossed to the floor. Drake would press harder, push further and let his anger boil and mingle somewhere below the tightening of his frayed waistband.

They'd never had it this way before. As angry as he felt, there was a sense of excitement to it all that made Drake continue on. He got the impression that Mindy sensed that feeling too; she felt tenser under his palms and grazing touches and she seemed to tug at him more, pulling him closer to her by gripping his belt loops. They moved together so that they were under the cozy, lavender comforter and they both barely heard the dull thud Drake's sneakers made when they hit the carpeted floor.

His hands were all over her underneath the warm robe. Mindy's body was emanating a heat that quickly seeped into his cold hands. Drake felt her shudder, but he didn't know if it was because of the temperature change or because she wanted this the way he did. Rough, calloused fingers moved down her shoulders and over her collarbones. Down further still, his palm brushed through the valley between her breasts until it settled lightly on her hip, gripping tightly when Mindy tugged at his bottom lip. Drake hadn't thought he was hurting her until her whimper sounded more pained than it should have. He almost stopped to ask if she was all right, but something made him pause. His head became so muddled with mixed emotions that all he could do was concentrate on what Mindy was doing.

Her pained whimper had stopped and Drake gave out a little gasp of his own when he felt her nails against the sensitive skin near his hipbone, sharper than ever. Mindy quickly helped him wriggle out of his dark jeans and they managed to slide down around his ankles when she wrapped her hand all the way around his growing erection.

She had a talent for this, for making him race to the edge of orgasm. Drake bit the insides of his cheeks and his breathing grew shallower with each of her pleasured strokes. He hadn't even realized he'd been gripping Mindy's forearm until he heard her muffled cry into her pillow match his.

--

Drake dressed silently as he could, in fear of waking anybody else up in the quiet house. Mindy lay sprawled out under the covers, her eyes occasionally closing as she watched him shimmy into his jeans and jam his shoes on over his feet. There was nothing more to say until their next reunion and a few angry verbal swipes in between. He finally slid the leather jacket over his arms and leaned over to give Mindy a last kiss on her forehead. Drake's gaze lingered over her eyes before he saw the bruise beginning to form on her arm.

Instead of remorse, it was a sort of ambiguous pride that filled him instead.


End file.
